Beast hunting had grown into a well-known profession. Mages who couldn't join the Enforcers, the military, or royal guards often turned to it. The occupation was structured, organized under various guilds—hunter guilds that oversaw operations and maintained rules. — Beast Theory, Scholar Mu Chang
The next day, on the road to Uthean County.
A voiture bore a golden lion insignia as it rolled steadily toward the main gate.
"Your city token or fare," the guards called out, stopping the vehicle. Voitures rarely entered the county. When they did, it was usually merchant caravans or noble processions. A lone carrier with a lion insignia stood out.
"Here." The driver rolled down the window, handing over a copper card embossed with the same golden lion.
"The Lions' Hunt C Guild," one guard said, bowing before returning the token.
Vroom. The voiture moved through the gates.
"How do these nobles even afford our services?" Melissa asked, glancing at the driver.
"Their quest fulfilled the prince's request. He needs the cores of ten salamander cheetahs—found only here. The Wilbert family domain is having trouble with them," Theo explained.
Thirty minutes later.
The voiture slowed as they reached the area plagued by beast attacks and came to a stop.
"I don't get it," Theo said, frowning. "The beasts should be attacking today—it's mating season."
Melissa peered out the window, eyes narrowing. "So where are they? This place is… too quiet."
No wind. No birdsong. Not even flies. Just silence. She grabbed her axe and stepped out.
Theo followed. "Careful. Something's off."
They moved through the tall grass. Boots crunched over twigs and dry leaves—until they weren't stepping on twigs anymore.
"…Theo." Melissa pointed ahead.
There it was. A salamander cheetah, blood dried, body twisted backward as if bent by some unnatural force. Eyes wide, lifeless. And then another. And another. Dozens. Scattered like dolls tossed aside by a tantrum.
"What in the hell…" Theo muttered, crouching beside one. "This wasn't clawed. Someone—or something—did this cleanly. "
Melissa paled. "Did another guild beat us here?"
"No."
The voice came from the trees.
Both froze.
A figure emerged, blending with the shadows. Barefoot. Cloaked. Wings trailing like smoke solidified.
Valhalla.
"You're late," it said, eyes glowing faint gold. The voice pressed against their minds, soft but undeniable.
Theo stepped back. "What… are you?"
"I did what my master asked," it said. "The Wilbert domain is clean. Take your reward and leave."
Then, without another word, it turned, slipped into the woods, and vanished.
Melissa exhaled sharply, still frozen. "What was that?"
Theo said nothing, staring at the trail of slain beasts. His gaze landed on a sigil etched beneath one cheetah's head—a strange pattern, neither glowing nor natural.
"…Let's grab a few cores and go. Now."